I played there were no deeper seas,

Nor any wider plains than these,

Nor other kings than me.

At last I heard my mother call

Out from the house at even-fall,

To call me home to tea.

And I must rise and leave my dell,

And leave my dimpled water well,

And leave my heather blooms.

Alas! and as my home I neared,

How very big my nurse appeared,

How great and cool the rooms!

IV

PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER

Summer fading, winter comes—

Summer

Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,

Window robins, winter rooks,

And the picture story-books.

34

 Prev. P 63/379 next